The Israphel Trilogy Part 2: The War
by AliceofGaming
Summary: Rewrite of "Israphel". Transformed into a monster, Israphel fights for his sanity and is forced to choose between destroying all that he once cared for or being destroyed himself.


"I've never understood why you don't just cooperate. Not only would it be easier for you, but you would also get to rule the entire bloody world." The vampire said casually.

They did this every now and again. Mostly because the undead skylord liked hearing the sound of his own voice, Israphel figured. He rarely had lengthy or interesting responses to give in return, so the other was free to talk as much as he wanted while Israphel half-listened.

"I would also have the blood of millions on my hands, Vitali." Israphel replied dryly.

"That's never stopped the others. It's certainly not stopped me, and I'm not getting nearly as much out of this deal as you are."

"Don't act like you don't enjoy killing." Israphel peeled off of the stone wall he had been leaning against and started walking with no real destination or purpose. He'd been going somewhere specific when he'd run into Vitali, but he had completely forgotten what that somewhere was. Maybe he'd remember later.

The vampire didn't make an effort to follow. "I suppose you have a point there." He chuckled. "And Lord Israphel?"

Israphel stopped and turned with a quiet groan. "What?"

"You do realize that the blood of thousands of people is going to be on your hands, whether you like it or not. We aren't just going to let you ruin all we've worked for."

He turned back and continued walking without reply.

Oh, he knew that too well.

* * *

After an hour or so of pointless wandering around the maze-like corridors of the massive Nether fortress where he now lived (or didn't live, depending in how you looked at it), he decided to go back to his room and read a book. He'd always enjoyed reading, which was good considering he didn't have much in the way of friends here. He stopped by the library, which was both conveniently placed on the same hallway as his room and conveniently void of people most days. He chose a book and continued down the corridor, stopping at his door.

The knob clicked as he turned it. The door had been locked from the outside. Odd. He wondered why. He received his answer as he opened the door, for on his bed laid a severely beaten young woman.

She had tangled blonde hair and wore a green dress with the common brown lace up boots of an adventurous village girl. She was also slightly bloodstained, bruised, and decidedly unconscious, with her hands and feet bound and a crude blindfold over her eyes.

Israphel stood awkwardly in the doorway. He'd never been good at people, especially strangers and girls. In fact, there had only been one girl who he was ever any good at, and he had almost certainly gotten her killed. Yet, here he was with this person, who was both a stranger as well as a girl, unceremoniously dumped in his room with no proper explanation.

Actually, he hadn't seen much in the way of breathing from her from where he was standing. He decided it was probably a good idea to make certain that a corpse hadn't been left in his room.

Israphel crossed over to the bed, closing the door behind him. He pressed two fingers gently against her neck. She had a pulse. Good.

More awkward standing. He really needed to figure out how to deal with weird situations like this, because face it, this sort of stuff was going to happen a lot.

He decided to start with untying her, beginning with her feet. She stirred a bit as he moved to work on the rope around her hands, and quickly broke into a fit of kicking and shouting when she became mildly aware of her situation. Israphel tried to get her to calm down and be still so that he could finish untying her and remove the blindfold, but she only kept on screaming obscenities and hitting him with flailing limbs. He quickly got fed up with this and opted for a slightly more aggressive approach. He pinned her down, practically getting on top of her to stop the struggling.

"Oi, blondie. Just stop flailing for a second and I'll be done here." He said, obviously exasperated. He pulled off the blindfold and was met with glaring blue eyes.

"Get off of me you disgusting little creep!" She shouted, and he stepped back hands raised defensively.

"Fine then! Stay tied up!" He replied with frustration. He ran a hand over his scalp and flopped into a nearby chair. They'd shaved his head when they'd brought him here, presumably to screw with his brain. While he unhappy with this on a number of levels, it was very low on his list of problems to worry about.

"Ah, Israphel," John said as he came into his room. "I thought that's what I heard. I see you've met Miss Daisy. You should be careful. She bites." He chuckled.

"What is she doing in my room?" Israphel demanded, obviously not amused.

"You weren't doing much. We thought it would be nice if you kept an eye on her until we need her." John replied. "The dwarf took a liking to her earlier, and we thought that she'd make excellent bait for later. Thanks for getting the two heroes over to Terrorvale, by the way."

"Whatever."

"You can do what you want with her, so long as she's more or less in one piece when we need her."

"She'll have the room on the other side of the library," he said dryly. "See to it that I get a key. I'll escort her there in a bit." He motioned for John to leave. The man nodded and left, closing the door behind him. The girl, Daisy, looked at him with wide eyes.

"Israphel," she said. "I know that name. You're supposed to be dead!" She exclaimed, incredulously. She had a slight accent. He couldn't quite identify it, but it suited her.

"I _am_ dead." He replied simply. It had become a fact of his existence.

"So what are you then? Some sort of ghost?"

"I am a freak of nature," Israphel sighed and walked back over to Daisy, who had managed to assume a sitting position. He held out his hand and she reluctantly offered up hers for him to untie. He gently undid the ropes and continued talking. "I didn't used to be like this, all pale-skinned and bald. I was a fairly normal kid. Not quite sixteen when they had me killed."

"You don't look sixteen. More like eighteen or twenty. My age at least."

"I was always a bit tall for my age, I guess. Either way, there's a lot different about this body. Everything's just a bit off. They tell me it's better, but..." He trailed off.

_This is the most I've probably spoken at once since I got here_, he thought. _Why to her, though? I barely know her._

"I'd better get you to your room. Follow me." Israphel's words were short and clipped. He gestured for Daisy to follow, and she did so with suspicious hesitation.

They walked with cold silence through the hall, footsteps echoing. Israphel stopped at the first door past the library and opened it to a medium-sized bedroom with an adjacent bathroom. It was not unlike the other rooms in the fortress that were set aside for sleeping and the like. The door locked from both sides to keep things either in or out, depending on who had the key.

"How do you intend to lock me in here when you don't have the key?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't. Not tonight, at least. If your situation is anything like mine was, not only do you not know the layout of this massive maze of a fortress, but you have no clue where you are in relation to the surface. If you were to leave your room tonight and try to escape, you would get lost and caught within twenty minutes. Maybe ten. I suggest you save your strength and get some sleep if you can."

"No promises."

"I'll be by to check on you late tomorrow morning." Israphel replied, then left to go back to his own room. Daisy was a piece of work, but at least she was sane compared to most of the people there.

Pity they would probably have her killed in the next few days.


End file.
